But before I could close the deal, Descamps received word from Curley to come to America by way of the Azores and Havana; he would book one or two easy opponents for him in Cuba to add to the publicity. Thus, I engineered a deal with Descamps who left Madrid with his party on December 15, 1926. On New Year’s Day Paulino opened his campaign on the American side of the Big Pond with a knockout in one round of Martin O’Grady in Havana. Two weeks later he scored another one-round knockout, this time over Antonio Fiero. Then the party sailed for Tampa where I met them and there Homer Smith was disposed of in the seventh round. With these preliminaries over, Descamps, Jack Curley, Paulino, and I left for New York to confer with Tex Rickard. Paulino was the first of the stream of Europeans to bring new life to American pugilism; and I was responsible for starting the ball rolling. The arrival of Paulino and later others from Europe and Cuba enabled Rickard to reap a bumper crop in his Garden promotions. Paulino held the spotlight for ten years. He started off in the United States by defeating Knute Hanson of Denmark and Tom Heeney of New Zealand on points and stopping Harry Wills in four rounds. He ended his days in Valencia, Spain, where he had been appointed Chief of Police by Franco, for whom he had been a chauffeur during the Spanish Civil War. [Illustration: 16] UNCLE MIKE JACOBS When Tex Rickard passed away, his chief aide, Mike Jacobs, took over the reins as top boxing promoter. I knew Uncle Mike as few of the sports writers did. I am familiar with the many facets of his personality and witnessed many of his joys, sorrows, defeats, and triumphs. His defeats were few and far between. His joys were many. His success was phenomenal. His victories were numerous and impressive; I played a big part in them, both before and after he took over the Madison Square Garden promotion. I saw him transform boxing into a gigantic industry, even greater than that which Rickard built in the Golden Era. During our thirty-five years of close association, I watched this product of the sidewalks of New York City become a captain of sports promotion. His success story is Horatio Alger stuff. Those who deal with the legends of boxing promotion like to hark back to the days of Rickard. It invariably has been Tex of the Wild West, Tex of the Klondike and the Pampas. He built an empire, it’s true, but had it not been for the aid given him by Jacobs, I doubt that he would have gained the international prestige that made his name a byword in fistic circles. A hard-headed business man, a cool and calm calculator who always had a sound reason for every move, Jacobs improved on Tex’s methods, though with less flamboyance. However, like Rickard, Jacobs lived in an aura of fistic glamour and romance.